


Boy Meets Fire

by Owlily



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Gen, Post-Canon, and some random tidbits, canon divergence for basically only the last 5 minutes of the movie, guess I accidentally made up a Promare OC, obligatory spoilers, this was serious until I remembered what Promare canonically look like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:01:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21905635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Owlily/pseuds/Owlily
Summary: Lio loses some of his powers, but gets a little… friend?
Relationships: Lio Fotia & Promare
Comments: 10
Kudos: 37





	Boy Meets Fire

The worst thing was the absolute silence after the Promare left. Lio had been used to their voices echoing in his head since childhood. There had been a lot of noise on earth while Lio and Galo had effectively blown up the milky way system, and the Promare had been singing, laughing and chanting in raptured delight all the time.

And now suddenly there was nothing, their laughter fading into the distance (the very far distance of another dimension). Just this one flame was still dancing over Lio’s fingertips, gently nibbling on his left index finger before vanishing, as if to say goodbye.

Except, apparently, it hadn’t been a goodbye, Lio discovered only later. It had been a promise.

The remnants of Promepolis were a pile of rubbles and ashes, Lio badly needed a shower or five after all he’d gone through the past two weeks, and he also needed a break from his new Burning Rescue… friends? to avoid being justly arrested the moment the police got a hold of him. (Nevermind he was running around in Galo’s jacket that was about four sizes too large for him and dwarfing him like a blanket, but beggars can’t be choosers, and Galo probably hardly ever wore it, anyway.) He even needed a break from Gueira and Meis, as harsh as that sounded. He just really needed a break to stomach what had happened, and maybe learn to accept this deafening silence in his head.

The “alone” part didn’t quite work out as he expected.

The Promare were gone, except they weren’t. This one wasn’t. It was hovering in midair in front of him in the middle of the dusty street he’d been strolling down.

Lio had still been a little brat whom his parents had dragged from the sleepy English country side to Detroit when he became a Burnish. He had had one and a half decades to get used to the flames. It had been frightening at first, then challenging, and for far longer than he cared to think about, the flames had become his lifeline. However, everything Lio had thought to know about his Burnish flames had turned out to be wrong within the span of a few days. 

They were not a mutation.

They were not part of him.

The Promare were sentient beings.

They looked rather silly.

He had never been in control. The Promare were like cats. Every time he had thought he had been controlling flames, the Promare had conveniently decided to work with him because his will so happened to align with theirs.

He would miss them when they were gone. 

A tiny part was saltiness because he no longer could throw neon-coloured flames between himself and people who wanted him or other Burnish dead, imprisoned or just generally oppressed. The Promare being gone would do precious little for people to not want Ex-Burnish to be dead, imprisoned or oppressed, no matter how loudly Galo had proclaimed he would fight anyone who’d give Lio or any of the other ex-Burnish shit. But he had dealt with all that before, and would deal with it again.

Mostly he just really missed the feeling of warmth in his chest, of those flames dancing between his finger tips, and voices whispering to him whenever he used them.

As things were now, the connection was gone, and that’s what he missed. However, now he had some kind of fiery… friend? Who had uninvitedly decided to join his little walk the second any other human being was finally out of earshot.

“I’m back! Told ya it wouldn’t be long.”

Lio had no recollection of the Promare ever conversing with him in actual words. Since childhood, he only recalled rhythmical chanting in a language that made no sense to him, and occasionally drum beats that might as well have come from Meis’ band. He stared at the little flame dancing in front of him, lost for words.

“Real sorry. It’s not personal when we do this. Connect with sentient beings in other dimensions and accidentally burn up their planets, I mean. I take it you suffered. You and the other earth people, that is.”

Lio nodded. It was simultaneously fascinating to look into a tiny magenta and turquoise flame hovering in midair, and really disappointing to know that the source of his powers had been this absurd little thing with its absurd charcoal eyes and its absurd little mouth that always looked jolly. Lio wanted to look away but couldn’t. It was like a car accident, just worse. He’d usually cause car accidents on purpose.

“So what I’m saying is, I volunteered to stay behind and apologize,” the Promare explained. Its expression didn’t change one bit. It still looked like a cheap plushie, and frankly, about as intelligent. As said, a bit… disillusioning?

“We see now that directly connecting with most lifeforms’ brains isn’t very effective, as it took you thirty years and almost dying to finally learn what I was saying.”

Lio’s eyes narrowed. Fifteen years. He wasn’t _that_ old. However, he was also actually interested in finding out about the Promare firsthand now that he had the chance. “So the Promare I was connected with was actually you, specifically?”

“Yes. Pleased to make your acquaintance in person.” Despite saying that, its expression still didn’t change, and Lio guessed it never would. However, the flame flickered happily.

Lio carefully stretched out a hand. “Lio Fotia. The pleasure is all–”

He cut himself off with a screech he’d never admit having made. His fingers _stung_. He stared down at his burnt fingers in disbelief, and felt like bursting into tears.

Maybe the silence wasn’t the worst thing. This was the worst thing.

Lio Fotia, leader of an ex-terrorist group, who, until yesterday, used to have perfect control over magic flames to the point he could make a functional motorbike, mech armour, a sword, bow and arrows, a _dragon_ , a variety of kitchen knives, child’s toys, and a stupid fucking matoi on special request, had just burned himself on his own stupid fire.

_No longer his_ , he reminded himself and felt his stomach sink. It had never been.

“Ah, sorry. Should have warned you, probably. But it was either going back to talking directly to you in your head, which has turned out not very effective, since apparently you didn’t understand a word I have ever said, or, well, this.”

“I’ll get used to it,” Lio assured it, not really believing his own words. “Do you have a name?”

“We do not do names.”

Lio felt like he could tell this particular little flame creature apart from any other little flame creature anytime, anyway. He had been pretty intimately acquainted with it. A name, though? Not really. Rather the way the ends of the flame danced, the pitch of its voice, and the particular hues in which it painted its surroundings in pink and turquoise light. Well… it? He? Her? It was a talking pocket-sized flame, the concept of human gender was probably beyond it. They? Would they work? Would it feel offended? If only Promare were at least like proper invasive aliens from another dimension. At least you might be able to tell the gender of giant tentacle monsters apart by whatever number of limbs they had.

Lio crossed his arms and stared the little flame thing down, or made a valiant effort at it. It was infinitely easier with people twice his size than with this sentient little candlelight. They knew each other too well. “Apology accepted. What will you do now?”

“We agreed that it would be a good idea to study humans before I return to my home dimension. To avoid turning future relations with host planets similarly sour.”

“…So?”

“I was gonna follow you for a while. We could improve our teamwork.”

Lio flashed a crooked smile. “Been there, done that, remember?”

“Been there, lent you my power, but you didn’t understand it. Thought this time around we could make it less of a me using you, and more like us communicating?”

_And there I thought I had been using you_ , Lio thought and realised then that maybe they should really work on it. Should he feel bad for feeling excited at the prospect of maybe getting back his powers?

No.

“Splendid! Let’s try. Light a little flame in the palm of your hand, okay?”

This was the first time for the entire conversation that Lio effectively managed to tear his eyes away from the Promare. He stretched out his hand, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and thought back to the times when bringing a tiny flame to life had taken nothing but a flick of his fingers.

He breathed out, and somewhere behind them, a car exploded in a flash. Lio slowly turned around and gasped helplessly at the scattered remains falling apart and raining down on the street.

The heat was the worst thing. It was supposed to feel comforting, familiar. But the oily, high pressure heat from the flames and the smell of burnt metal and rubber were anything but that.

“Whatever you do. Do not tell anyone about this. Please,” he mumbled.

The Promare looked as silly and as jolly as ever. “Don’t give up yet. We can work on that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Galo names the Promare Cinders, like a dog
> 
> I have less wrist pain free time for self-indulgent stuff than I’d like but if you wanna scream with me about Promare and other good things, please feel free to say hi on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Toradhart)!
> 
> Also thanks to [Quetz](https://twitter.com/Quetzacotlchu) for giving this a quick grammar/typo check and encouragement, and [Kiki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dechaltier) for [more encouragement](https://twitter.com/dechaltier)!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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